


a turn for the better

by PawsiblyBearable



Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 05:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17360144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawsiblyBearable/pseuds/PawsiblyBearable
Summary: “Well, I, I just thought,” Rory began, tripping over her words, “If we’re here, and what if- I mean, this beach, we’re on it, and it’s dark and today has been a really odd day for the both of us, and there are some things-”“Spit it out, Gilmore.”“What if, and I’m only saying what if because we’re definitely still intoxicated on some level, I had a thought, and that thought could potentially-”“Rory-”“I think you should kiss me again.”[fix-it fic for S4E17, that time on the beach.]





	a turn for the better

“Paris,” Rory said, out of the blue. Paris hummed in response. They still sat on the beach, wrapped in their blankets, feeling their toes in the sand. While the party raged on behind them, they both seemed content to be there. Rory scooted a bit closer to the girl beside her, shivering gently. They’d been on the beach for a while now, Paris wasn’t sure how long. An hour, at least, simply enjoying each other’s drunken company. They’d talked a bit, casually, but soon it fell into comfortable silence. Paris was struck by it, after Rory had said her name. Normally things went differently. 

“Paris,” she said again, and this time Paris craned her head to look at her, raising her eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well, I, I just thought,” Rory began, tripping over her words, “If we’re here, and what if- I mean, this beach, we’re on it, and it’s dark and today has been a really odd day for the both of us, and there are some things-” 

“Spit it out, Gilmore.”

“What if, and I’m only saying what if because we’re definitely still intoxicated on some level, I had a thought, and that thought could potentially-”

“Rory-”

“I think you should kiss me again.” 

Any rebuttal that Paris could muster was thrown out the window. The waves hitting the beach softly were the only sound heard as she straightened her posture, mouth agape, still reeling from Rory’s question. Rory felt the heat rising in her cheeks, but chalked it up to the alcohol. She smiled awkwardly, nervously, and adjusted her position so that she was sitting even closer, facing the blonde next to her, with their legs touching ever so slightly. 

“But… there’s nobody here.”

“I know.”

“Why would you want to kiss me if there’s nobody here? The whole point was to get the attention of other people, and by doing so we’d have a better time. I thought you didn’t want to kiss me. Or did you forget that?” Paris trailed off as she noticed Rory’s expression -- that soft look on her face, the anticipation in her blue eyes. It took her a moment to answer, and Paris could tell that she was in thought from the way her eyes shifted. 

“I don’t know. It feels right.” Rory’s voice was but a murmur, and she held her knees up to her chest. The blanket slipped off her shoulders and fell into the sand. Paris, blinking, took a moment to just look. There was something about Rory in that moment that struck her. She was so pale, but flushed. Her lips were chapped. They’d just kissed. Of course, it definitely wasn’t because Paris was attracted to her, she tried to assure herself that much. She tried to assure herself of that earlier that day, and many nights and days before. She’d attempted the moment that they had their first interaction and their first argument. It didn’t feel right anymore. Not after she’d actually gotten the chance to kiss her. 

Paris couldn’t help but think of it. Everyone else in the club was having a better time than them, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Then again, maybe it wasn’t the need to be like everyone else that had her so on edge. She licked her lips, unable to shake the feeling of Rory, the taste of Rory. This person who’d always been so frustrating by being her rival was turning out to be so for different reasons. Paris’ gaze shifted to Rory’s lips for a split second. 

_“I just thought-”_

_“Just stop thinking. Your thinking is very, very dangerous.”_ Rory’s voice rang in her mind.

She looked away, then, and Paris felt a drop of anger bubble in her chest. She reached out, impulsively, and laid a hand against Rory’s cheek to move her head back where it should be -- their eyes meeting each other, challenging each other like always.

“Paris…” Rory said, with a waver in her voice. Like she’d touched fire, Paris suddenly pulled her hand away, realizing what she’d done. Rory swallowed and fidgeted before she spoke again, “We don’t have to. I’m sorry.” 

This left Paris even more perplexed, the feeling bundling up inside her. She fidgeted with her hands, darting her focus around their surroundings, thoughts racing to a breakneck speed. 

“Earlier, you said that my thinking was dangerous. What did you mean?” Paris all but blurted out, the nervousness in her voice coming out in force. 

“I… I don’t know. Listen, we really don’t have to. Forget I said anything. We’ll get on a plane tomorrow and forget this ever happened.” Her mouth turned into a quick half smile, but there was nothing behind it. Rory’s gaze fell to the beach and she watched the waves beat against the sandy shore. A few moments of silence settled between them before Paris took a breath. There they were again, the soft ocean sounds, music muffled by the distance and the sheer openness of the expanse of water before them. Something about it made her want to jump in headfirst, no matter how cold the shock. Paris was not apprehensive. The shock excited her. She swallowed.

“If you really want to kiss, we’re going to do it. And it’s going to be better than whatever other kisses you’ve gotten from your past boy toys, because it’s from me. It’s from me and you want it. I don’t want to think about the consequences anymore, Rory.” Maybe it came out harsher than she intended, hitting every word with a certainty, but she meant it. The other woman blinked, craning her head to look back at Paris’ face. She felt Rory’s hand wrap assertively around hers, and Rory nodded once, with a hopefulness in those eyes of hers. 

“Seconded,” Rory said with a light tone in her voice, “I want to kiss you, Paris. It’s… it’s why I asked.” Paris couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on her cheeks. She didn’t need to hear anything else -- they’d made each other happy, just being there. Even with the rocky moments. 

It was Rory that made the first move, pushing herself forward and closing the distance between them. Her lips met Paris’ eagerly, and they moved together quickly and desperately. Their bodies were touching completely now, and Paris held on to Rory’s back, gripping her shirt. Her mind felt like it was buzzing. It was simultaneously going 500 miles an hour and completely blank. All that mattered was her arch rival turned best friend was there, in her arms, and kissing her senseless. There weren’t many instances in which Paris Geller was rendered speechless, but the feeling of Rory against her shot straight up to the most memorable one on the list. 

They pulled away to breathe for a moment, and pressed their foreheads together gently. Panting, they collapsed onto each other. Paris’ back met the blanket against the soft sand beneath them.

“You weren’t lying,” Rory finally said, carefully and gently. 

“Of course I wasn’t. Who the hell do you think I am?” Paris quipped back, deadpan. Rory laughed and pressed her lips against Paris’ again, but with far less aggression. Languidly they moved, Rory propping herself on her elbows to feel Paris’ neck and jaw. 

Then, there was the silence again. Rory breathed, pulling back and caressing the skin of Paris’ face, watching her, before settling back in at her side. The silence was not unwelcome, nor was it uncomfortable. It just became part of them, maybe there was nothing more to say. Paris felt as though the ocean washed over both of them. Something was clean in the air, and she wrapped her arms around Rory’s nimble frame, kissing her head. 

Rory’s fingers threaded through hers as they walked back to their hotel. Everything seemed to be winding down, the world falling asleep, but Paris’s body was more awake and alive than it had ever been. Where Rory touched her, electricity remained. It took all her might not to look back and just stare. Neither of them said anything as they walked up the stairs, the night air still clear and chilly. Neither of them said anything when they put the key in the door and closed it behind them with a soft click. Rory went to bed, Paris stayed awake. Paced a bit on the outdated carpets, thinking, thinking, thinking. Even with Rory’s shifting, the blonde stayed steadfast in her own mind, imagining all the outcomes of the situation, good and bad. How could one person be filled with so much anxiety and dread and yet so much excitement at the same time? Paris didn’t know. She kept on until she heard her name called softly again across the room.

Neither of them said anything else when she crawled into bed with Rory. Neither of them said anything as they cuddled up together, arms around each other, and fell asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing.

That was new.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, welcome to my first ever published fic! it's not beta-ed or anything, nor have i seen the episode in a while, so i apologize for any inconsistencies or errors. i just really wanted to write about these ladies smoochin'. 
> 
> i may end up adding to this sometime in the future. if you've got any ideas, feel free to come chat with me on twitter! @possumqveen


End file.
